Tuesday, May 21, 2013

THE GREAT GATSBY - REVIEW

Ever since reading “The Great Gatsby” and viewing its
multiple film adaptations I’ve wondered if the book could ever be filmed. There
have been a couple Gatsbys already, Alan Ladd and Robert Redford, and neither of
them got anywhere close to a living portrayal of the book's mysterious, titular
character. Yet, it isn’t the story or even the fact that Gatsby exists mostly
as a creation of the book’s narrator that makes “The Great Gatsby,” in my mind,
unfilmable.

No, I believe the book exists alongside a literary great like “The Catcher in
the Rye” as unfilmable because the machinations of its story aren’t really what
made audiences fall in love with it in the first place. Instead it is the
wonderful poetry and lyricism of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing that serves as
“The Great Gatsby”’s lasting appeal, a particular brand of writing and
viewpoint that is unique to the written word. How do you replicate something
like:

“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgiastic future that year by year
recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — to-morrow we will
run faster, stretch out our arms farther… And one fine morning — So we beat on,
boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

There are few films whose images evoke a response that can
come close to proving that this kind of transcendental expression can be one
expressed by filmmakers. I would be quick to place a film like Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life right alongside “The Great Gatsby” in terms of artistry. However,
that doesn’t mean that an adaptation of The Tree of Life would make for a
great book.By all accounts, it’d
be terrible.

In some ways, I think Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby
tries too hard to remain faithful to the novel, even depicting type-written
passages of it onscreen, but without the confidence that made Fitzgerald’s book
so bold and beautiful.Fitzgerald’s
writing conveyed so much with so little and here Luhrmann (Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge) piles on the detail in an almost
deafening display.

Early parties scenes fill the screen with an impressive
array of costumery and digital effects that resemble an orgy of Lisa Frank
stickers.Luhrmann’s camera
rockets around the explosive scenes like a rollercoaster with a seemingly
senseless array of edits.These
scenes are unfocused and narratively pointless, as the visuals don’t reveal
anything or highlight any of the partygoers.Instead I felt full-on nausea and disorientation, at a time
when I so desperately wanted to orient myself within the narrative.

However, there comes a moment in the film, after I was
shaken senseless, where Luhrmann’s style abruptly changes and he reveals his
greatest effect of them all, Leonardo DiCaprio’s Jay Gatsby.

As the fireworks are exploding and “Rhapsody in Blue” is
climaxing, Gatsby reveals himself for the first time to the audience and it is
his, Leonardo DiCaprio’s, smile that eclipses all of the mania of his signature
parties. In that smile is everything that makes up Gatsby; all of his naivety,
showmanship, romanticism…And yet,
Luhrmann feels the need to include Nick Carraway’s (Tobey Maguire) overbearing voiceover,
often lifted straight from the book, to describe exactly what we are
witnessing.

This isn’t enough to sink the performance of DiCaprio, whose
performance outright saves the film and elevates his colleagues’ performances
as well. When Gatsby is allowed to interact with Daisy Buchanan (Carey
Mulligan) and Tom Buchanan (Joel Edgerton) in some of the quieter scenes, the
film bursts into life and allows its incredibly talented actors to be untainted
by Luhrmann’s overwhelming style.

Any second away from Leonardo’s Gatsby is a second I spent
waiting for him to reappear onscreen. He plays the character with the perfect
balance between joy and inexplicability, as if Gatsby has already peered into
his own future. When Gatsby’s lies begin to unfold and his naïve romanticism
comes crashing down around him, DiCaprio transforms into a horrifying and
pathetic creature whose anguish seeps out of every pore. If DiCaprio didn’t
already have several career-defining roles, this might be it.

While Luhrmann’s gaudy cinematic tricks and flair for
inserting contemporary music into period films can often be distracting, I
always found these choices interesting if not thematically vague. The problem
is that they operate in sharp contrast to and are far less effective than The
Great Gatsby’s smaller, more intimate scenes, some of which last over ten
minutes. It is here the tension simmers, boils, and erupts into a chaotic
ballet.

Early on Gatsby cries incredulously, “Can’t repeat the
past?Why of course you can!” and
I certainly wish I could agree with him. Except this time I would urge Luhrmann
to give up his tricks and make a smaller more intimate Gatsby. This The Great
Gatsby is just like one of his parties: big, exorbitant, loud, gaudy, and a
distraction. That’s too bad because there is also a great Gatsby lost in the crowd
of people, yearning to be loved.